


Hydrogen Peroxide

by Spamateur



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, M/M, Magic, Minor Angst, OC, Prison, Prison Escape, Villian Varian, alchemist, bear with me, i just finished the series, im new to the fandom, magic-induced dreams, magician, post season one, pre season three, so im in post show inspiration mode
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23178538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spamateur/pseuds/Spamateur
Summary: Varian is in jail, and his father is still trapped in the amber. To save him and get revenge on the royal family, Varian needs to escape. With the help of an interesting cellmate, Varian intends to do that. But things get a little derailed...
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	1. An Alchemist's Arrest

Princess Rapunzel always got the happy ending. Always.

No matter what she did or how big a promise she broke, she won, and no one else, least of all Varian. It was like it was her _fate,_ to move on in life, to never have to face the consequences for her actions, to never have to _lose._ To never have to lose a battle or her reputation or a friend or a _father--_

Varian choked back his tears. A royal soldier locked a pair of cuffs around his wrists. He'd failed. His dad was dead or, if not, as good as, and it was Varian's _fault._ If he had just listened and left the rocks alone, if he had seen the amber and moved out of the way before his dad had to intervene, if maybe his dad hadn't intervened at all and it was Varian instead of him encased in amber, with no hint at whether he was alive or not. Possibilities raced through his mind, but the reality stayed the same. Quirin was trapped. Not even Rapunzel could free him, not without hurting her. 

Varian wasn't above that.

He heard the king say that he was going to get Varian the help he needed, and he wanted to scream, but he was afraid his voice would come out as a mangled cry instead. _Help_? Where was the royal family's help when he had needed it? He'd been turned away when their _help_ could have been of use. What good was it to him now? What good was it to _Quirin_?

The soldiers jostled Varian into the carriage cell and closed the wooden door. There was a _click_ as it was locked. 

"I will make you proud of me, Dad," Varian vowed, and if his voice was filled with more dark malice than he'd intended, he didn't care. "If it's the last thing I ever do."

˜”*°•-|I|-•°*”˜

Varian's cell was cold. And hard. And empty.

He could have laid down in the wooden bed attached to the wall by a couple of hinges and chains-- though wasn't much softer than the stone against his back-- but somehow, to do so felt _wrong_. Like laying down would be giving up. Like the moment he let himself be more comfortable, even marginally, all this anger and this- this _rage_ would seep out of him, and he didn't want that. He wanted the anger and betrayal to smother him and choke him and suffocate him to death, because when it was gone he would be alone with what was left. 

So he stayed leaning against the heavy stone-brick wall, and he tried not to cry too loudly.

He was startled awake by the sound of a corridor door opening with a heavy creak.

There was a sound of footsteps, and a sound of scraping metal, and a sound of footsteps, and a sound of scraping metal. It went on about three more times until the footsteps reached Varian's cell. This time, there was a pause before the sound of scraping metal. Varian was being watched.

With a blazing scowl, Varian looked up to the guard's eyes. Pete.

"Uh, hi," said Pete, averting his gaze under the heat of Varian glaring daggers his way. "I brought, errr, food. Though I mean, I hope you can eat it but if you eat nuts and bolts, that's alright because I have one! It fell out of an armor stand when Stan knocked it over but it was left over when we tried to put it back together, err, wrong pocket, yes, here Heh... heh..." With a nervous swallow, Pete rolled the piece of metal into Varian's cell, where it settled by the metal tray of food Pete had just slid under the door with the sound of a circling coin. "It's just, I know you're good at making robots-- although good's not a good word, is it? Oops, there I go again, but what you did wasn't quite good, it was bad, actually, but--"

"Don't you have other prisoners to feed?" Varian snapped, and Pete let out a frightened whimper. Some part of Varian felt proud at that, but another much more honest part was _reviled_. He wasn't not a monster. He's wasn't a villain. He was just a kid. He was a kid who'd had to do the hard thing for the right reason, didn't Pete see that? Didn't anybody?

"Actually, see, you're the last in the corridor-- most of the prisoners are held on the second floor, you see, on account of the better sunlight and such, but certain prisoners that commit especially heinous crimes-- Uhhhhhhh, not that you're heinous, I mean, except that you did kidnap the Queen and the King is furious, but don't worry! He wants to help you and he says he's going to do his best to save your dear ol' dad, er, as it were--"

At the mention of his dad, Varian felt the urge to cry and to roar and to reach forward and take Pete by the collar and demand retribution, not that he could reach Pete's collar anyway. Instead, Varian recognized opportunity.

"Thanks, Pete, I appreciate it," is what Varian said instead.

Pete brightened immediately. "Really? Well, no problem, pal! And even though you're a terrible person, just know that me and Stan will always be there to bring you your grub and keep you from escaping, so at least you got us. Besides, Flynn used to be a professional thief and the King only sort of hates him, and you only threatened the lives of all Corona, especially the Queen and Rapunzel, so maybe in fifty years or so you'll actually be allowed to see sunlight again or something, so--"

"Pete," Varian interrupted, mostly out of fear for his own sanity and concern for wherever it was Pete thought he was going, "I don't actually eat food like this."

"Really? Ha! Wait till Stan hears this, I _told_ him that bolt would come in handy--"

"I don't eat metal, either," Varian said, feeling altogether quite done with Pete. "I need a special type of, er, water."

"A special type of...? Well okay, boss, criminal, sir, just tel me where to get it, heh."

It took Varian a hot second to recall. He'd been experimenting within the castle walls (quite literally; he'd had to do a lot of sneaking around and in some cases the only way from one room into the next was to get into the wall inbetween the layers of brick and plaster) when he'd last had the hydrogen peroxide he now wanted. He remembered kicking back a loose stone on accident and nearly sending the whole wall crumbling, only to support the wall enough to keep it standing at the last second by wedging a tall shatter-proof vial into the space he'd created. On the other side of the wall the kitchen was bustling with handmaidens. If the wall had fallen, all of them would have been crushed by the rubble. They were saved by the vial.

Varian needed that vial.

He told Pete as much, leaving out the parts about experimenting and sneaking around and the fact that it wasn't water but hydrogen peroxide, which in liquid state closely resembled water except for a bluish tint.

Pete nodded dutifully. "On it, sir, I won't let you starve, kid, you will have as much of the mysterious special water in an important area which removing it from could compromise the integrity of the palace as you need." And he set off with purpose.

Half an hour later, Pete returned to Varian's cell with the vial (with a few-- 72, to be exact-- friendly words of greetings and then irrelevant rambling) which Varian gingerly took from Pete's armored grasp. He smiled.

Several rooms and hallways away, a wall caved in on itself and several roast chickens were destroyed. Conveniently, every handmaiden and cook had been in the dining hall helping with an unfortunate carrot cake incident, so no one was harmed. 

Varian ate the tray of food Pete had left behind after sliding it under his cell door, a loose plan already forming in his head.


	2. Capabilities of Combustion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not science, I do not affiliate science, I am not science, and I do not know science. This is why I write fanfiction instead of dissertations on the effects of sunglasses on the savanna habitat.

Although not flammable, at a high enough temperature, hydrogen peroxide tends to be a little... _explosive._ If Varian's calculations were correct-- and they _totally_ were-- at a certain angle, the bolt, which fit perfectly into the vial Pete had brought, would shoot out at the perfect velocity to knock a nearby torch onto the ground, from where it would roll at an angel to Varian's cell. He would have an estimated three seconds to collect himself to empty a small amount of hydrogen peroxide onto the dying flame, resulting in a small explosion, before a guard came in to inspect the source of the noise. The guard would be forced to evacuate the corridor, including Varian's cell, which would be at the heart of the blast.

Pete was right. Varian's cell didn't get much sunlight. But, there was a time (from 3-3:30 by Varian's calculations) when the sun shone perfectly through the little slit in the wall. Using his boot to prop up the hydrogen peroxide vial with the bolt positioned perfectly inside, Varian held his goggles to the window and a concentrated beam of light focused its glow on the vial.

A minute passed.

Two. 

" _Come on,_ " Varian urged, his teeth clenched with the effort it took to keep himself poised perfectly to utilize the light. He was on the tips of his toes and his arms were gently shaking in their protest.

Just as Varian was starting to doubt his calculations (unfathomable, really) there was a satisfying _pop-ching!_ and sizzling noise. Right on track, the torch fell and ever so slowly, rolled toward the bars of Varian's cell, where it was stopped by the bars with a metallic _clink_.

"Haha! Yes!" Varian grinned. "Really, the chemical properties of-- right, right, time limit." He reached for the vial with the remaining vital hydrogen peroxide.

The heavy sound of moving metal came from the cell directly above his, followed by a voice: " _Hey_!"

If the interruption had come a second later, Varian would have completed his task in time, but as it was, he reacted with a start, which knocked the vial onto the ground, where the hydrogen peroxide sloshed out.

"No!" Varian whisper-yelled, reaching toward it and righting the vial, ignoring the cool sensation the chemical had on his skin when a portion of it splashed out as he hurriedly picked it up.

The voices from the cell above continued. "Hey, hey watch the-- _watch the jacket!_ Jeez, the audacity of you people! And don't you know these boots are genuine dragon leather? Genuine, casanova!"

"No no no _no,_ " Varian continued rambling. He was vaguely aware of the sound of the heavy corridor opening and footsteps descending the hallway toward his cell as he scrambled to use his apron to soak up the spilled chemical. If it reached the fire, the resulting explosion would be far bigger and far, far closer to Varian himself than he anticipated. Too much had spilled out for there to be a realistic escape plan now--

"Huh, that's weird," came Stan's voice. "Hey, Pete! It's just a torch!"

Varian looked up and watched Stan pick up the torch and put it back in its place. It was nothing more than a glowing cinder now. Varian's shoulders sagged and he felt a sinking feeling in his chest. He'd failed. Again.

"Oh, dear," Stan murmured, noticing a bolt- _the_ bolt-- on the floor. "Ohhh, dear. Where does this go? Where..?"

"I know!" Varian blurted. "It's-- um, thats-- that goes to. Myyyy.... Goggles." He offered a grin. "My goggles." Varian tapped the metal nub on the side of his goggles, which in return gave an encouraging plinking noise.

Stan didn't question it and tossed the metal bolt back into Varian's cell. He said something else as he left, possibly something about metalworks and how Pete had said his spouse, if he had one, would probably be brilliant at fixing goggles, but Varian was preoccupied trying to catch the bolt.

Catching a tiny piece of metal sounds easy and simple in theory, but as Varian reached for it once, it bounced upward. Varian made a grab for it again midair, only to hit it and send it through the air to Varian's face. Varian gave a pained flail, which only had his hand whack the offending bolt again, sending it flying through the grate in the ceiling above. 

It didn't come back down.

Varian groaned and cupped his eye where the bolt had hit him. "Stupid... physics..." he muttered frustratedly.

It took him a hot second, but eventually Varian realized two things: the voice in the cell above him had ceased, and his metal bolt was nowhere to be found. He looked up.

There, looking back down at him, was a bright-eyed face.

"Looking for something?" 

"Um, yes?" Varian answered uncertainly. "Can you drop it down?"

The face paused to think. "What do I get out of it?"

"Uh...." Varian didn't have anything to offer, not off of the top of his head. If he could get back to his lab, maybe, but...

"Haha, just kidding, I don't care. I'll come bring it to you."

_Come bring it to me...?_ Varian repeated internally. Why not just drop it back down? Either that was an interesting choice of words, or the boy above him was dumb. 

The whispered murmurings of a spell from above introduced a third possibility: the person above Varian was, in fact, insane.

A heavy shift of metal sounded throughout the cell and into the corridor.

If Varian had focused, he might have notice the faint golden line surrounding the grate as it dislodged, floated upwards, and settled somewhere on the floor above, out of Varian's sight. 

"Wha- How-?" Varian was dumbfounded and at a loss for words, even as a curly-haired teenager dropped down into his cell and fell flat on his butt. 

The boy looked up with a crooked grin. "Theodore Thowlocke, at your service," he greeted, holding out a hand. Wordlessly, Varian took it and helped him up.

"How... did you do that?"

Theodore frowned. "What, this?" He flicked his wrist and the grate slid back into place above him. "Magic. Duh."

The way he said magic with such ease, as if it was a _given,_ astounded Varian.

"Magic isn't real," Varian asserted, because of that much he was certain. Chemistry, obviously. Alchemy, of course. Even physics had its place in science. But magic? That was impossible.

"It's not?" Theodore asked, rolling his amber eyes. "Well, my mistake. I suppose I'll just stop existing, then."

He winked at Varian like the two were sharing a joke. Varian stared back dumbly.

"You really don't believe...? Okay, here." Theodore reached out for Varian's hand, which Varian instinctively drew back. Theodore _tsk_ ed and reached for it again. He pulled off Varian's glove with ease, and with practiced, delicate hands, drew his fingers over the lines of Varian's hand.

"A palm reading. _Really_?" said Varian.

Theodore cocked an eyebrow,as if to say, _Just wait._

"Occidentis igne, memoriae euismod reignite," Theodore whispered, and his voice took on the voices of sorcerers and warlocks past, his eyes gleaming with gold. 

Varian drew in a sharp breath as the creases in his palm were lined with streams of glowing gold. The little rivers of magic rose and, in the air above his palm, formed faces and memories.

Before him, the events that had played out less than a week ago were replayed. Varian saw the Queen tied up, his automatons looming threateningly over soldiers, the black rocks glowing blue and growing impossibly, _inexplicably,_ and _Rapunzel,_ gloriously saving the day from Big Bad Varian, while his dad remained ever-entrapped within amber--

Varian clenched his hand into a fist and the magic was dispelled. This time, the bewildered look he gave Theodore was returned.

"How did you do that?" Varian demanded, while at the same time Theodore questioned,

"What did you _do_?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry it's short. I've been a bit ~occupied~, what with the coronavirus and the fact that I spend most of my time drawing. You can see those drawings (including ones of Varian and Theodore!) at @artofanamateur on Instagram. :)


	3. A Deal with the Devil

"You really don't know who I am?" Varian had endangered the entire _kingdom._ It seemed hard not to notice the guy behind it.

"I'm new in town, please excuse me, your _highness_."

"Hi-- _Highness_?" Varian sputtered. "I- I am _nothing_ like--"

"Okay, okay," said Theodore, making a soothing gesture with his hands. "The royal family is a touchy subject, got it."

Varian huffed. "You ruined my escape plan, you know. And now you've dropped into my cell out of nowhere acting all, all _friendly_ and _mysterious_ , and claiming to be a magician? What are you playing at, _Theodore Thowlocke_?"

Theodore gasped sarcastically. "How dare you use my full name angrily, stranger I've never met?"

Varian intensified his glare in a way he hoped was intimidating. Evidently, it was not.

"Hey now, I'm not going to tell my cellmate my inner-workings without even knowing said cellmate's name," Theodore said promptingly. When Varian offered him nothing in return, Theodore tried for a smile. "...SO..? Can I get a name?"

"Varian."

"Well, Var-bear, I am a warlock-- a good one, really, except I sort of offended the royal family by stealing a magical artefact or, as I like to call it, a doohickey. It's not important. And I figure if I'm going to be stuck here for the next year (or however long it takes me to escape,) it couldn't hurt to have a cellmate, right?" He winked, for reasons Varian couldn't decipher. 

A part of Varian was very certain that it _could_ hurt. Especially if he ended up with someone tall, dark-haired criminal with facial hair set on overtoppling all of Corona for his own sake and not minding if hundreds of lives were lost on the way. Yeah, that would be a _lot_ worse than a fiery-haired boy with golden eyes.

"But that doesn't explain the.. the..." Varian gestured vaguely at Theodore.

"Magic?" Theodore tilted his head. "You can say it, freckles. I believe in you."

"No," Varian replied uneasily. "There has to be a, a scientific explanation."

"Is there a scientific explanation for Rapunzel's hair?" Theodore retorted.

"I thought you were new to Corona!"

"Please. _Everyone_ has heard of Princess Rapunzel."

Varian went quiet then, thinking of vows or revenge and of the pain of his father's absence. He didn't know-- God, he had no _idea_ if Quirin was still alive. He had to believe he was. 

"So?" Theodore prompted. "What are you in for?" There was an unsaid addition to his question: what was behind what they saw in the spell?

"I didn't do anything the royal family didn't deserve. They ignored me. Rapunzel _abandoned_ me, and now my dad, my _dad_ \--"

"Woah, easy, there, buddy," Theodore said, but Varian went on.

"I just- I just wanted to make dad proud of me, I just wanted to, to--" _to see him look at me and actually be happy at what he saw in me._ "But now he's--"

"Hey, freckles, I get it, believe me, I do. And I'm all for being a criminal's shoulder to cry on, but--"

"Justice will be _served_. I can't give up. Corona's royal family cannot win every time, and when they finally lose--"

"Is it just me or--"

"I'll be there, oh _I'll be there._ I will avenge--"

"--does it really smell like hydrogen peroxide in here?"

Varian paused and looked down at his still-hydrogen-peroxide-soaked smock. He tore it off and sat at one of the beds, using the moment to take in a breath before speaking again. "How did you know it was hydrogen peroxide?"

"Well." Theodore grinned. "I'm not just charming, magical and criminal, I've also done a few experiments in my time. You'd be surprised how much science and magic interlap."

"Experiments!" Varian straightened up. "I just need to get back to my laboratory--"

"And what?" Theodore interjected. "Sneak past the dozens of guards they'll have tearing apart the place?"

Varian sunk, thoroughly put out. He'd never be able to recover the supplies he needed with guards there. But he couldn't just _sit_ there. The hydrogen peroxide plan wouldn't work anymore, too much of it had spilled out unused. But if he couldn't save his dad, then he was going to make the ones who doomed his dad _pay._ So he wasn't going to give up now. Besides, he was in a building full of criminals and one day, the right one would arrive and he'd seize his chance. And as he watched Theodore shoot a small ball of light to the torch to reinvigorate it, he noted that having a _sorcerer_ (not that Varian didn't still believe that there had to be a factually explainable reason for Theodore's abilities) on his side could be useful.

"Why don't you use your 'magic'?" Varian asked, both challengingly and out of genuine curiosity.

Theodore shot him a look. "If I had a spell for escaping prison, I'd have used it by now, freckles."

" _Varian_."

"Sure, sunshine. Anyhow, magic doesn't just do stuff like _that-"_ he accentuated the word with a snap of his fingers. "It requires the proper words and, in some cases, ~in _gredients~._ Unfortunately, I left my spellbook at home."

"Why would you leave your book at home if you were planning on stealing a magical artifact from the _royal palace_?"

"It was a joke. The guards seized it when I got caught."

"Oh." Duh. "Can't you... make your own spells?"

"Sure, but I'm not exactly fluent in Latin, and I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm severely lacking eyes of newt and virgin blood. It would take a while."

"I have the indefinite future to wait."

Theodore tilted his head, regarding Varian with a smirk. "So what you're saying is... We'd be Freedom Friends. Breakaway boys. Getaway guys." 

The indefinite future might be a little too long with this guy than Varian could handle. 

The door at the end of the corridor of cells opened, and Stan walked in. Varian could tell it was Pete because Pete had a fun little tune he liked to sing every time he went on his evening patrol around the cells. 

"Evening rounds, I'm coming around, around the grounds to guard the compound, to honor the crowned, and keep bad guys out! Wait, that doesn't rhyme, hold on... To keep bad guys down! "

"Uhhh, you've gotta get back up there before Pete gets here," Varian whispered frantically, ushering Theodore back below the gate. Pete's song went on hopelessly in the background. Theodore frowned. "Go on. Do the..." Varian gestured randomly. "The thing."

"Dude, I'm a sorcerer, not a miracle worker. I can't reach the grate, I'm like five foot six!"

"Well, you can't stay here! You'll get us both in trouble!"

"In trouble? We're already in jail! What are they gonna do, arrest us?"

"Just-- okay, I'll give you a boost."

"You're like five-foot four or something and that thing is at least seven feet up there."

"Yes, so mathematically, you should be able to--"

"Hey guys, what are we frantically whispering about?"

Theodore and Varian froze. Slowly, they turned their heads to see Pete staring back. He smiled.

"I bet it was about me, huh? Alright, out with it. What did you think of my song this time?"

"Brilliant," Theodore answered immediately. "It was spectacular. You could start a band with a voice like that."

"I know, right! And we'd be called the En Guards! Get it? Hahaha, you guys get me." Pete sighed happily and whistled a short series of tunes from his evening patrol melody. "Anyway, I should get on with the patrol, eh? Glad you finally got a cellmate, Varian." With that, Pete went on with his rounds and, unfortunately, his song.

As soon as he was out of sight, Varian and Theodore relaxed with audible exhales. 

"Well, that's settled, then," Theodore said. "We're cellmates."

"Yes, alright, _fine._ But let's focus on getting out of here." Varian looked toward the tiny window, from which the fading light shone weakly through. He could practically taste the fresh air out there, and the scent of chemicals and parchment paper. He might not have a plan yet, but when he got out of here, he was going to find a way to make his father proud. "I have a princess to take vengeance on."

"That's all well and good," Theodore said, "and I'm willing to help you and get us out of here. But you're not the only one that needs something when we get out of here. I'll help you escape, but then I need your help getting the magical piece and using it to help me with something. Then I'll even help you overthrow Corona and save your dad, I _promise_. Deal?" Theodore held out a hand, his golden eyes shimmering in the dim light.

Varian was short on choices, but even if he had one, Theodore's expression was earnest. Strangely, even considering how the last promise someone made to him had been crushed and discarded into the dirt, Varian felt like he could trust him. He reached out and shook Theodore's hand. "Deal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, another short chapter, I know, I know. I might make a song (actually) out of Pete's evening patrol melody....


	4. Chemical Properties

The next time that Stan went around with food for the prisoners, he noticed Theodore in Varian's prison and did a double take it. For a second, Varian was afraid that Stan would insist Theodore return to his cell, but Stan only said, "Varian, I didn't know you'd become cellmates with the warlock guy! Hi, warlock guy."

"Hi," said Theodore cheerily, giving a little wave.

"This guy broke into the royal vault and stole a precious magical artefact that reveals whatever the user wants to know, can you believe it?" Stan chuckled. "It kinda reminded me of what you did, Varian, except afterward he didn't kidnap the Queen--"

"Stan," Varian cut in, hoping to get to the chase before Stan could get too far off track and reveal something Varian didn't want revealed, or bore them to death. "I need poppies."

Actually, _Theodore_ specifically needed poppies for a spell he was trying to make, and it was Varian's job to use Stan to get those poppies. As long as Stan believed that Varian being an alchemist meant that he ate weird stuff, Stan would bring him anything edible he asked for, short of an actual weapon.

"Ah, on a diet from the special water, are we? You know, the King has been going on this keto diet lately but I saw him sneak in a cupcake--"

"Haha, that's just like the King, isn't it?" Theodore interrupted. "Classic King... king. King of Corona." He was clearly struggling to remember the King's name. "Anyhow, Varian's diet requires that he, uh, eats said poppies, like, right now, so Stan, buddy, do you mind getting them?"

"Of course! I will get right on it!" Stan promised dutifully. "I know exactly where to find some because, see, the flower and fruit stands have been--"

"Poppies, Stan!" Varian urged.

"Poppies, right!" Stan seemed vaguely frightened by Varian's tone, and obediently ascended back up the hall.

Each cell in Corona's prisons had two beds (if you could call them that-- they were really two wooden boards with a blanket and pillow) for two prisoners, even though Corona rarely had enough prisoners to fill up the cells to that extent. Really, it didn't make sense to have Varian and Theodore in the same cell, but Stan and Pete seemed to be unbothered. _Thankfully,_ Varian thought. Theodore was his key out of here.

"Soooo what was that about you kidnapping the Queen?"

Varian looked up at Theodore, who was sitting on his bed on the opposite wall, inspecting his nails in an effort to feign casualty.

"I did... a lot of things."

"To save your dad."

"Yes. To save my d-" Varian's voice couldn't carry him to the end of the sentence. "To save him," he said quietly instead.

Theodore regarded him with empathy. "Have you ever tried magic?" he asked, unprompted. He was decidedly changing the topic.

Varian gave him a look.

"I can teach you some," Theodore offered.

Professionally, Varian considered himself against magic. But professionally, he had indirectly ruined a scientific fathering, used science to endanger _hundreds,_ and abused scientific knowledge repatedly this past year. His professional standing could probably take another hit. "Alright, he relented, though uncertain.

"Really? Okay." Theodore moved to Varian's side and took Varian's hand, turning Varian's palm to the ceiling. "This one doesn't require ingredients. Repeat after me. _Igne._ "

Theodore watched closely as Varian repeated the words, and a tiny blue flame ignited in Varian's hand. Varian stared in awed fascination.

"It doesn't burn."

"Of course not, what good would magic be if it hurt the sorcerer?" Theodore retorted.

Varian closed his hand into a fist, putting out the flame. "I am not a sorcerer," he insisted.

"Oh believe me, you're not. But you could be. When you did the spell, your eyes did the... they went... Oh, I'll just show you. _Igne."_ As Theodore did the spell himself, stronger yellow flame lapped at his hand. "They did this," he whispered, looking at Varian. Varian looked back. He admired the golden sheen to Theodore's eyes. When Theodore spoke, his voice was quiet. He expended more of his energy into making the flame dance higher than he did into speaking. "It means I have magic in my blood."

"It's beautiful."

Theodore blinked, and his eyes went back to normal. He cleared his throat. "Right. Well."

It took Varian a second to realize what he said. "Uh- I mean! The magic! Not. Your eyes... That's not... I mean--" he laughed nervously.

"Anyway, your eyes did the... the magic. Except blue. Not yellow," Theodore coughed. "So. Yeah. You have magical lineage. You could, theoretically, be a sorcerer. Here, try this: _Electra_."

Thankful for the opportunity to move on from his verbal fumble, Varian repeated the words. Immediately, blue electricity crackled between his fingers. Despite himself, he let out a startled laugh.

Theodore's grin matched his own. "You're a natural!"

"Uh, no-- I'm more of an alchemy guy," Varian said, but he still felt pleased at the harmless lightning-like tendrils flickering across his hand. He marveled at the scientific potential this presented. How could he use this in a lab setting, he wondered. How _did_ magic _work_? Because even if Varian was forced to acknowledge the existence of magic, it had to have _some_ aspect that was _conclusive,_ that was _testable._

Well. No time like the present.

Varian flexed his fingers. Nothing happened. He thought of lightning shooting from his ungloved hands. No change.

Out of sight but not out of earshot, the corridor opened and shut with a loud, heavy noise, and the electricity sparked out of Varian's hand and upward. It hit the grate above, which glowed brightly. A drop of sizzling molten metal fell to the floor and cooled.

"Uh, yeah," Theodore said. "Maybe not."

"Wow, that was intense," Stan commented. Varian jumped, noticing the guard's presence for the first time. He was holding a bundle of flowers in one hand and an apple in another.

"Hi, Stan," said Theodore.

"Hi, warlock guy." Stan took a grateful sniff into the bundle he held in his hand and smiled happily as if reminiscing about someone. "I brought the poppies! Also an apple because I don't think that poppies are very nutritious and if the King can sneak a cupcake on his keto diet, then the alchemist can probably sneak an apple in on his weird alchemy diet, right?" He slid the poppies and apple under the gap where he would normally put trays of food. 

"Stan! I'm going on break!" Pete's voice called down the hall. 

"Oh, dear." Stan hurried down the hall to take Pete's place, saving Varian and Theodore from another aimless rambling.

Theodore picked up the apple, looking satisfied. "I know a spell using the apple seeds that could come in handy."

"Because of the cyanide content?" Varian guessed. "A ratio of two to one hundred, speaking in terms of cyanide versus body weight, can be fatal."

Theodore seemed interested at that. "Well, that's handy."

_No. Not handy,_ Varian thought. _Highly dangerous._ "Wait, we're not going to use the cyanide to poison anyone... right?"

"No, freckles, I'm not going to kill anyone." Theodore held up the apple, inspecting it in the torchlight. "I'm just gonna make a little _boom,_ is all. Basically what you were going to try to do with the hydrogen peroxide, just with a bit more... _malum pomum anima mea._ " With a yellow spark, the apple shrunk down into one small ball of glowing light. "Texture," Theodore finished with a grimace. "There's some unfortunate side effects to this kind of magic, though," he added, drawing a hand to massage his temple.

Varian felt a throbbing pain go through his own head. "Of course," he realized, "the negative chemical properties of cyanide must have some sort of, some sort of rippling effect on the space and matter surrounding the source of the spell! It's fascinating, really."

Varian's deduction seemed to interest Theodore. "I never considered that the repercussions were anything more than magical in source," he spoke, looking at Varian as if the boy held all the secrets of the world. 

Varian felt the pain intensify and doubled over, clutching a hand to his head. "It's the power of science," he said cheerfully, despite his pain. "It lets you-- grasp ungraspable conce-" 

The pain worsened and he gasped. He felt Theodore's hands grasp his, but Varian couldn't see anything but sparks of pain. "Varian! I'm sorry, I didn't know it would--" 

"It's not a problem," Varian groaned, "The cyanide's poison must be-- be--" This was an unexpected development. Varian couldn't breathe. 

_Oh. I can't breathe._ That was... not good.

"I'm sorry," Theodore repeated. "I didn't-- I didn't know. I didn't... _Pacifice Somnum."_

_Pacifice._ He knew that word, vaguely. Peace. Was Theodore doing magic on him?

He felt himself drifting away against his will, and decided it didn't much matter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote most of this at 1 AM, which probably says something about my brain. Hope you've been enjoying so far.


	5. Lucid Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had an on-and-off headache for three days now, and this morning it was REALLY bad, so this chapter took a while. Sorry. :)

"Varian?"

Varian stirred with a sleepy groan. Why was it so  _ bright? _ He turned in bed, rubbing at his eyes. "Yeah?"

"Just making sure you're up. We're going into town today, remember? We leave at noon. Don't be late. I made breakfast."

"Sure, dad. Thanks." Varian yawned.

"Ham sandwiches!" Quirin added. 

Varian sat up. That was as good a reason to get up as any. He still felt inexplicably drowsy, but Varian forced himself to get out of bed as his dad left the room. He reached toward his dresser, and realized he was already wearing new, clean clothes. When had that happened? He didn't remember changing....

"Varian!" Quirin called.

Varian forgot why he was confused. "Coming!" he called. He turned to go, but paused.

Something was missing. Glancing around, Varian realized what: his satchel. "I'll be there in a minute!" he called. "I just need to find... my..."

He didn't remember walking to his laboratory, but he had blinked and suddenly he was there. 

"Hi, Ruddiger," Varian greeted cautiously as the raccoon padded up to him and gave a friendly chirp. Ruddiger was carrying the satchel in his mouth, which he offered to Varian.

Varian took the satchel with an uneasy smile, and turned back toward the exit. He stopped.

Ruddiger peeped at him in complaint, as if to ask,  _ What's the hold-up _ ?

"This is.... wrong."

There was something missing from this room. Something bad. Something  _ terrible. _

"This isn't..." Varian's voice shook. "It's not  _ real _ ."

The room was too  _ empty. _ There was supposed to  _ be _ something, something looming and heartbreaking that Varian didn't want to remember but tried to nonetheless. A spike of pain thrummed in Varian's head.

" _ Pacifice _ ," a stranger's voice reminded him. Varian looked around for its source. Not a stranger. He  _ knew _ that voice. "You're stronger than I gave you credit for, angel, but you gotta let yourself live the dream until I figure out how to fix this."

Varian tried to remember what the voice was referring to, but he quickly found everything slipping away.

He was outside, his satchel over his shoulder, his dad helping him up onto a cart. From there, Quirin handed Varian apples and Varian loaded them into the cart in repetitive motions. 

"Your mother is going to have apple pie ready when we get back," Quirin was saying.

"Really?" Varian smiled. He loved his mom's apple pie; his dad made it all the time back when... Back when... Varian couldn't remember, but it didn't matter.

"Those are the last of them," Quirin said, sounding satisfied. He dusted off his hands and helped his son down. "Good work, son. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, dad." Varian beamed.

As they traveled toward the heart of Corona, Varian found himself admiring the landscape. Everything was so much more peaceful than he expected, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember why. 

When they got to the castle, Varian felt a sense of foreboding and the feeling of a headache about to come back. It passed just as soon as it came. 

Multiple fruit, flower and goods stands, all by order of the King, were setting up outside the palace. Somehow, Varian knew without asking why. Today was the Queen’s birthday, and Corona was celebrating.

"I'll take care of setting up," Quirin told Varian warmly. "Why don't you go say hi to your friends?"

As if on cue, Rapunzel was skipping down the steps toward Varian. 

“Hi, Varian!” she greeted cheerily. Varian ignored the nagging feeling that he was supposed to feel angry at her.

Varian smiled back at her. “Heyo, Rapunzel, long time no see!” He hadn’t talked to Rapunzel since… well, since something, but it didn’t matter now, because she was here! “Are you excited for the Queen’s birthday celebration?” 

“Of course!” Rapunzel laughed. “Don’t tell anyone, but I painted something really sweet for her. I think she’ll really like it.”

“I’m sure she’ll  _ love _ it, Rapunzel,” Varian assured her. And he was. Everything Rapunzel did was so thoughtful and considerate. It seemed difficult  _ not _ to be affected by her infectious enthusiasm. No choice she ever made was ill-intended. 

“Aw, thanks, Varian! So, tell me about what _ you’ve _ been up to.”

“Well, actually, I was developing my plans to get warm water to everyone in Corona, and I realized…” As Varian explained to Rapunzel his plans, it crossed his mind how much he had  _ missed _ this. He missed this so much it hurt. Being Rapunzel’s friend. Why wasn’t he her friend anymore again? 

“Hey, dewdrop, how’re things going?” 

There was that voice again. 

“I-is that Princess Rapunzel?-- You know what, that’s not what I’m here for.”

Varian looked around for its source, but Rapunzel remained staring merrily at the space where he used to be, like he was still telling her about his designs. 

“Sooo, work is coming along but I  _ kinda _ hit a roadblock. I don’t suppose you happen to know what latin for  _ protection _ is?”

Varian stared into the empty space. Was the familiar voice asking  _ him _ ? 

“Uhhhh…. No,” Varian answered uncertainly.

“Hm. Oh well, guess securus will have to do. When it doubt, add ‘u’ ‘s,’ I always say.” The voice snorted like it’d just told a joke, but it was strained, like it felt more anxious than it did amused. “Okay, freckles, you hang in there. I’m close to fixing this, don’t you worry.”

“Wait!” Varian shouted in no particular direction before the unembodied voice could leave. “What are you  _ talking _ about?”

“I’m making a spell to protect you from the, uh,  _ negative side effects _ of my magic-- oh, hey, Stan.”

And then the voice left. 

Varian forgot it had ever been there.

He was back in his laboratory. This time, Varian didn’t mind the strange, empty feeling that wouldn’t let him look to the center of the room for too long. Soon enough, it drifted away, and Varian felt content. 

He sat down to work at his desk, upon which sat a variety of tools and chemicals. What most caught Varian’s eye, though, was the green crystal at the center, just waiting to be analyzed. In one, fluid movement, Varian swung the hinged magnifying glass over the crystal. It was translucent, but closer to opaque than transparent. Still, not opaque enough to be aventurine. Its shape confirmed that it was not jade, probably not emerald, and definitely not chrysoprase. It’s exponentially pointed ends suggested a unique lattice, too small and not random enough to be moldavite. If Varian could just isolate a unit cell, he could decipher the arrangement of the particles within it. First, though, there were easier ways to narrow it down…

Using glass like a pencil easily left a scratch in the crystal. Not vesuvianite, then, or peridot. Varian sat back, puzzled. Diopside?

No, diopside had a far less parallel cleavage. It had to be something else… 

Oh.

Varian couldn’t keep in a startled laugh. He had discovered a  _ new _ mineral. An never-before labelled or acknowledged by scientific journals, entirely new mineral! And-- and-- and he got to name it. Okay, okay okay, he told himself, I get to name it. Let’s not mess this up, like the guy that named goosecreekite.

“Hey, princess.”

Varian jumped, dropping the crystal. It was the voice, but for the first time, Varian  _ recognized it. _ “Theodore?”

“The one and only. Listen, I-”

“Theo! Look at what I found!”

“Listen, sweetcheeks, I fixed it. I made a spell that will protect you from my magic as long as you stay nearby, but then, my magic only hurts if you go outside the parameters of the spell it doesn’t really-- whatever. Just, we gotta go. So. I need you to wake up.”

Varian frowned. “What do you mean, wake up?”

The silence that resulted could only be described as sympathetic. Varian hated it.

“I don’t want to wake up.”

“Varian, this isn’t real. I know you know. You nearly woke up a few times before the spell was ready. You know this isn’t  _ real.” _

“But- but it’s  _ perfect _ here, I don’t _ want _ to go back.”

Theodore’s voice gave a sigh of defeat, and Varian picked up his crystal. He put it back on the table and guided it under a microscope.

“So this is your peaceful slumber? Your pacifice slumber? Experiments?” Theodore asked. “Varian, you are so much  _ brighter _ than I gave you credit for, but if you don’t wake up from this soon, the side effects of my spell could be permanent.”

Varian tightened the lense’s focus. “It’s not just that. Rapunzel is my friend again, the black rocks are gone, and my parents… They’re still here.”

Varian grabbed his notebook and started jotting down facts about the new mineral. Hardness lower than 5.5. Potentially silicate, sulfate, or native element. 

“I know it’s hard, Varian. But none of this is real life.”

The pencil in Varian’s hand snapped. “But I can’t  _ have _ this in real life!” 

“You can take your friends back, Varian! You can get rid of the rocks and try to help your dad! You can make it the best you can, but you can’t do ANY of that if you don’t wake up. Please,” Theodore pleaded. “You have. To wake. Up.”

Varian set down his notebook and put his head in his hands. Okay, he reasoned, this was a dream. He knew that. He’d known that for a while now. But it was so easy to forget, and forgetting was so much  _ nicer _ than remembering. 

But it was fake. Rapunzel doubtlessly hated him.  _ Corona _ hated him. His mom wasn’t really here. His dad...

Varian took in a deep breath, and he could already feel that if he opened his eyes,  _ really _ opened them, he’d see the real world, not his laboratory. 

“I’ll be here when you do, Varian.” 

Coming back into consciousness was just as unpleasant as leaving it had been. Varian sat up with a start, and just as suddenly lay back down. Not on purpose, but from being forced to do so by a  _ terrible _ headache.

“ _ Ut spiritus eius salvus magia ex reliquiis _ ,” Theodore intoned hurriedly. The headache disappeared, and both Varian sat back with a relieved sigh. Theodore tried for a welcoming grin. “Hey, Varian. Welcome back to the land of the living.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: pencils were invented in the mid-1500s.


	6. Breakout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer chapter than usual!

Theodore and Varian spent the next day developing The Researched Usurpation of Delict, Dinomially Improved List Of Careful Knowledge of Escapement, or ‘escape plan,’ as Theodore called it. 

First, Theodore explained, he was going to use the “apple spell thingie” (his words exactly) he had made to blow out the wall. After that, he and Varian would have to hurry and get past the castle grounds. In the event that they were chased after by a guard or, God forbid, that terrifying royal horse (“Max,” Varian helpfully supplied, to which Theodore replied, “I don’t think it makes a difference what the horse is named, goggles.”). Theodore was going to use the poppies to perform an enchantment that would put the pursuers soundly to sleep. The two of them would then sneak  _ back _ into the castle at a different location, sneak in through a small window on the second floor, and then take the path on the left to a secret hallway that led to the royal fault.

“I know this castle,” Varian said at this point in the discussion. “There’s a quicker route to the right.”

“No, no, there’s going to be a patrol a few minutes behind,” Theodore refuted. “We can’t go that way. But if we go to the  _ left _ \--”

“How did you know that?”

Theodore blinked. He opened his mouth once to speak, then closed it, trying to find the right words, to no avail. “Uh. I don’t. I don’t know that.”

Varian narrowed his eyes and eyed Theodore suspiciously. “Why are you hiding something from me?” he asked accusingly, already coming up with ideas of Theodore’s betrayal-- he was sent by the king, he was a secret agent from the Northern Isles, he was using Varian to--

“Okay, okay,” Theodore relented. Varian stared at him expectantly. Theodore swallowed.“I have… had… visions. That’s all. I know certain things... that are going to happen in the future, that’s all.”

Oh, visions, that was alright then.

“Visions!? Certain-- Wh-  _ Certain things? _ ” Varian repeated, his voice rising. “Certain things that could pertain to our escape!? Why would you not tell me-- what ‘ _ certain things’ _ ?!”

“Calm yourself, bumblebee!”

“That one doesn’t even make  _ sense _ !”

“They can’t all be winners!”

“Like two percent of them are winners!”

“Oh yeah? Which ones? Doll? Casanova?  _ Sweetcheeks? _ ”

“Oh, for the love of Corona, Theodore Thowlocke--”

“Oh, so now we’re using full names, huh?!”

After a brief, slightly aggressive discussion, the two of them agreed that Theodore was henceforth to confide impertinent information acquired from his visions to Varian. (Varian was still a little suspicious, regardless.)

They continued planning. Theodore described the magical artifact he needed: 

“The Desiderio Adversus Videntem,” Theodore continued. “I’ve seen where they moved it in a vision. It’s still in the royal vault, but it's hidden in a chest with a magical encryption to keep me out. That’s where you come in. Once we get the chest and have brought it to a secure location, you can use your alchemy abracadabra to open it.”

“And what exactly does the Desiir- The Desidiro--”

“The Desiderio Adversus Videntem,” Theodore cut in.

“What does it do?”

“It’s going to show me anything I want, any location, as long as I can picture something part of that location,” Theodore said. “You _ can _ open the chest to get to it, right?”

Varian nodded vigorously. “Oh, yeah. I have a chemical compound-- of my own design,” he added proudly. “It’s mainly hydrogen peroxide, but hydrogen peroxide isn’t flammable, only combustant, so I mixed it in with another more flammable chemical compound I created in a lab environment that happens to be excellent at melting metals. No big deal.” Varian shrugged with a smirk that suggested he thought his accomplishments were slightly more than no big deal. “Oh, and I left a pair of vials outside the castle wall for emergencies when I was, uh, sneaking around with Rapunzel. So we don’t have to worry about going back to my lab.”

“Brilliant.” Theodore beamed. “Well then, we’ve got our escape plan. What do you think, sunshine?”

Varian sat back on his wooden bed, practically vibrating with excitement and restless energy. Finally, he could get out of here and start focusing on making the Rapunzel  _ suffer. _

Varian’s train of thought skidded to a stop. The last time he had seen Rapunzel was in his dreams, and she had been… Well,  _ they _ had been friends. And it had felt so much  _ happier _ than Varian felt now. Varian  _ wanted _ that again. Maybe, he could even have it…

_ No. _ Varian stopped himself, mentally reminding himself of why he had been angry in the first place. Quirin had been in the dream, too. And if Varian couldn’t have his dad back, then he didn’t want Rapunzel either. 

Besides, Varian had a promise to keep. He grit his teeth and nodded at Theodore. “I think it’s about time we got out of here.”

-{+}-

Initially, following the escape plan went smoothly.

Theodore seemed increasingly anxious, but Varian assumed he was just itching to be free again.

“Get as far as you can,” Theodore ordered Varian, placing the apple’s glowing essence into the slit in the wall that barely passed as a window.

Varian didn’t need to be asked twice. If the spell being cast was enough that Theodore had to put Varian to sleep to stop the pain, Varian didn’t want to think of what could happen when the explosion spell was actually put into action, even with Theodore’s magical protection spell.

He backed up until he was against the cell bars, not far enough for Varian’s comfort, but as far as was possible. Varian put his goggles over his eyes, braced himself, and nodded to Theodore to begin.

Theodore stretched out a hand toward the apple’s condensed ball of light and muttered under his breath. Even with his goggles, the subsequent flash forced Varian to look away as the wall blew out with a noise like thunder, and a wave of heat hit Varian like an industrial furnace.

There was no way no one heard that.

There was no time to waste. Theodore (his hair looked only slightly like a blow-dried shitzu) and Varian dropped out of the cell through the blown-out wall and made their way across the courtyard. They had just gotten a few steps out when the entire wall of the prison building collapsed, sending rubble, dust and bricks everywhere, and conveniently freeing half of Corona’s criminal population.

“Ha!” Theodore cheered. “That should buy us some time. Come on, alchemist!”

But Varian was staring at the prisoners who were crawling out of their cells (some jumping, if they were on higher cells) or staring at their potential freedom in shock. 

“Some of these people are  _ really bad, _ ” Varian said, not sure if he was telling Theodore in particular or just saying it to be said. “We just freed a bunch of murderers, thieves and traitors.”

Theodore growled his annoyance, grabbing Varian’s hand and pulling him along. “We  _ are  _ thieves and traitors, pumpkin, and we’re gonna be  _ convicted _ thieves and traitors again if you don’t  _ hurry up _ !”

_ Right. _ Varian pulled his hand free of Theodore’s grip and ran. They could already hear the shouts of guards and prisoners. If Varian was spotted, he was sure to attract a few. Funnily enough, royal guards don’t take well to those who put the lives of the royal family at risk. 

He knew the way to the vault, and dashed along the stupidly lush green grass to the right tower, Theodore by his side. It looked so close, yet time seemed to stretch out as they moved. Why oh  _ why _ was this lawn so huge?

“Over there!” a gruff voice nearby shouted. Varian hoped it was a prisoner pointing out an escape path, not a guard pointing out  _ him _ . 

The tower loomed above them. Varian looked up to the window. Maybe if he was taller, he could reach it, but to him it was far, far too tall. 

“How are we supposed to get up there?” he asked. 

Theodore grasped onto a brick and pulled himself higher up. “We climb.” 

“ _ Climb _ ?” Varian repeated, watching Theodore continue his ascent to the window. “I am a man of  _ science, _ not a man of extraneous recreational physical labor-- oh, thanks.”

Theodore had reached the window and offered a hand down to Varian, who only had to climb a foot or two to reach it.

Theodore pulled Varian into the room, a dark closet that was empty save for a weapon stand that was abandoned. The guards that were usually posted here must have gone out to help when all of the prisoners escaped.

Theodore threw open the door without another word and started running up the long winding staircase behind it.

“I thought you said it was in the royal vault?” Varian asked, out of breath as he followed Theodore. The royal vault, as far as Varian knew-- the one where he had stolen the sundrop flower-- was down the hallway further inward. Varian tried to ignore the pang of regret he felt at recalling his sundrop escapades.

“Pumpkin, it’s the  _ castle _ .  _ Every _ vault is royal.”

“Pumpkin?” Varian repeated, continuing running up the stairs. Theodore offered no reply. God, these were a  _ lot _ of stairs, it seemed like they would never end-

“Oh, good, we’re here,” Theodore breathed out, as exhausted as Varian was. “Oh. Less good.”

“Halt! You’re under arrest!”

There were two more guards standing vigil at the vault doors.

The first one, who had shouted, advanced toward Varian, while the other charged Theodore, who shouted, “ _ Igne _ !”

Varian ducked under the first guard’s grasp, really wishing he had his chemical orbs. The guard turned, pointing his sword uncomfortably close to Varian’s chin, and in Varian’s haste to back away, he tripped over a body.

He stared in horror at the body, and Theodore’s whispered “ _ Electra _ !” had the advancing guard drop to the floor at Varian’s feet as well.

Theodore stood in the guard’s place, hand still sizzling with yellow energy. Varian looked at him. He looked at Varian.

“What? I didn’t  _ kill _ them. Probably. Ah.” Theodore plucked the keys from the electrified guard’s belt. “And see? We’ve got our way into the vault.” 

As Varian got to his feet, being careful not to step on the unconscious guards, Theodore carefully unlocked the vault doors. 

“You were  _ supposed _ to use the poppy spell if we came across any guards,” Varian pointed out.

The doors swung open with a painful screech of metal. Varian half-expected some arrows to shoot out, but apparently guards were the only precaution the knights had taken.

“I panicked,” Theodore replied defensively, stepping into the room.

It was packed full of shining, shimmering gold and silver objects, but Theodore rushed straight to the small, unassuming black chest in the center. He picked it up with a grimace. “Hot hot hot hot,” he hissed, all too grateful to shove it into Varian’s arms.

Theodore huffed, rubbing at his hands. “They warned it specifically against me! Can you believe that? The audacity!” Varian raised an eyebrow. Theodore cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah, we should get going. It’s about at this point that the King is told that certain highly dangerous prisoners have escaped and orders all guards to apprehend them.”

“Is that something you learned from your visions?” Varian asked pointedly. Theodore shot him a look over his shoulder and led the way back down into the castle’s courtyard. 

It was at this point that the plan got especially rocky.

They were close to an exit, which was conveniently devoid of guards. Varian held the chest under his arm as he ran, leaving Theodore free to perform spells.

Not-so-devoid of guards, Varian corrected himself as he got shoulder-checked by a petty thief running from a scrawny armored man. The guard ran past Varian to get the thief at first, then stopped and looked back. He recognized Varian.

Varian froze.

“Stop! Traitor!” Abandoning the thief, the guard set his sights on a far more valuable prospect: capturing Corona’s most recent terrorist.

“AaaAAaah!” Varian took off, wishing that Corona’s most recent terrorist wasn’t  _ him. “ _ Theo, do the sleepy spell, do the sleepy spell!”

But Theodore wasn’t running with him. Varian looked back. Fortunately, the guard had literally tripped over himself and was on the ground for the second.  _ Un _ fortunately, Theodore was frozen, his eyes glowing. Varian cursed under his breath and went back to him.

“Theodore?” Varian tugged on Theodore’s hand, but Theodore wasn’t snapping out of it. Instead, he was looking in the distance with a pained expression. “Thedore, we gotta  _ go _ -”

The guard was up and running toward them.

_ Okay okay okay, _ Varian thought.  _ According to my last experiment, magic reacts to emotion. Well I am feeling a  _ lot _ of emotions right now.  _

“Okay, Varian, you can do this,” Varian told himself, setting the chest down and turning toward the guard. Louder, he told the guard “Don’t come any closer!”

The guard, predictably, came closer.

Varian raised a hand, grimaced, and shouted, “Electra!” Immediately, a bolt of lightning shot outward. It branched through the air in a quick blue flash, and there was a  _ thud _ as the guard collapsed. Varian thought he should probably say sorry, but the guard was now unconscious and sizzling anyway, so his words would fall on empty ears.

Besides that, he didn’t  _ feel _ sorry. He felt scared and  _ angry _ .

He was not going to get caught again. He was not going to fail his father again, and no stupid royal guard was going to make him.

Varian turned his attention to Theodore, who was still frozen on the spot, golden eyes shining in the darkness. “Theodore,” he urged, shaking the young warlock. “ _ Theodore. _ ”

“Dad?” was Theodore’s reply, except he wasn’t talking to Varian. “No! I’m bringing him. I’ll save you, I’ll save you both--”

“ _ Theo _ !” 

Theodore inhaled sharply and the golden light went out in his eyes. “Varian?” He looked confused, but then a shock of clarity spread over his countenance as he took in his surroundings. “Oh, come  _ on _ !” he groaned. “This is, like, the  _ worst _ time to be having a vision.” He noticed the guard on the ground and opened his mouth to ask Varian about it, but Varian tugged Theodore along.

“Yeah, no kidding. Now let’s  _ go. _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S.: Sorry this chapter is, like, two days late. My brain is broken.


	7. Desiderio Adversis Videntem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writers blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters blockwriters block

The pitter-patter of steadily growing rain shook the trees of the forest. Fallen leaves and sticks cracked in protest as Theodore and Varian hurriedly sped through the woods, not knowing if there were guards in pursuit. Either way, they didn’t want to stay around and wait for the guards to make their way to them.

Varian was just going to ask Theodore where it was exactly they were going when Theodore stopped in front of a small cliff, its peak looming over them. Strong tree roots snaked their way down the cliff and held boulders in place. 

Theodore scooped a fist-full of dead leaves from the ground, pushed them against one of the boulders, and murmured a word of magic. The golden gleam of Theodore’s eyes reflected on the wet stone and the roots pushed the boulder aside in welcome, revealing a dark cave. Theodore walked in and after a moment’s pause to consider the biologic mechanics the trees’ movement would require, Varian remembered he was supposed to be running from guards and followed after. The boulder closed back into place behind him.

Varian set down the black box and two cylinders he and Theodore had made a stop at the outer walls for. In each was a different chemical that, when combined, would result in a significant release of heat and a chemical reaction that effectively melted through metal. It was perfect to destroy the lock of the black chest, which was warded against Theodore’s magic.

Theodore spoke a spell of fire, lighting up the cave with the subsequent flame that flared in his palm. “Well?” he pressed impatiently, staring at Varian. 

Varian shot him a look. “If I get this wrong,” he replied tetchily, shaking any remaining drops of rainwater from his gloves, “I could melt through my own hands. And if that happens, I will use the remaining chemicals to dissolve  _ your _ hands and more.” He pulled his goggles over his eyes and took one vial in each hand, carefully poising one to pour over the lock. “So  _ shut up _ and let me  _ work. _ ”

Theodore clenched his jaw, but didn’t speak again.

Theodore poured a few drops of the hydrogen peroxide onto the lock first first. Then, more delicately, he let a few drops of his second solution drop upon the metal.

What resulted was a spark of brilliant green-blue light, followed by nothing short of a small explosion. 

The lock sizzled and, alarmingly, popped, sending a speck of molten steel onto the floor beside Varian, where it cooled with a audible  _ crack _ . Slowly, layer by layer, Varian’s concoction stripped away the body of the lock until it was gone. 

Varian waited until the chemical reaction calmed down to open the box. He barely had the chance to see what it contained-- a silver locket attached to a chain-- before Theodore was scooping it up, the flame in his palm vanquishing, and cradling the locket in his hands.

The light of the fire was replaced by the faint gleam of Theodore’s eyes as he murmured a word of magic, and in response, the locket flipped open.

At first, the face of the locket was an empty black. But as Theodore’s magic touched it, it glowed outward. Gently at first, then stronger and stronger until even with his goggles, Varian had to look away.

“Show me my parents,” Theodore commanded quietly. Whatever the locket showed in return, Theodore let out a shaky breath.

“Theodore?” asked Varian.

“It’s gotten worse.” Somehow, it felt more like Theodore was talking to himself than he was talking to Varian. “Show me  _ where, _ ” Theodore told the locket, staring resolutely into its bright face. The locket evidently obeyed, because Theodore sighed frustratedly and closed the locked, its light ceasing so Varian was able to watch as Theodore pulled the locket’s chain over his head. Once it was on, Theodore’s eyes glowed with magic again, but based on his confused crown, it wasn’t his doing.

A light flashed again from the locket, and Varian watched in fascination as, under Theodore’s right eye, three points that matched the shape of the locket glowed brightly. 

When it was over, Theodore brought a cautious hand to his eye and, sensing the residual magic there, said, “Huh.” 

In another circumstance, Varian would have found himself struggling not to stare too intensely at the new mark there, gleaming in the darkness, but at the moment, he had more pressing matters in mind. 

“Now you’re going to help me take revenge on Rapunzel,” Varian cut in as Theodore whispered an incantation and the flame flickered in his hand, lighting up the small cave again. The sound of rain was ever-increasing outside. By now, it was a constant hammering of water on the trees and rocks, and little streams of water were sneaking in through the ceiling. 

“No,” Theodore answered, moving to the spots and murmuring magic words to move the roots to block the water. He seemed tense. Even his outstretched hands, guiding the roots, were rigid with resolve. 

“ _ No _ ?” Varian repeated incredulously. 

Theodore stopped, turning to face Varian fully, the flame in his palm flickering. “Your half of the deal isn’t over, goggles. I said I’d help you escape, you help me get the magical piece and use it to help me with something,  _ then _ I help you overthrow Corona and try to save your dad. We’re not done with the using it to help me with something part.”

Varian frowned, but he couldn’t argue, as much as he wanted to. “What would that entail?” he asked instead.

Theodore paused to think, and took the moment to set one of the roots in place to stop another trickling of water. The storm outside was getting worse. Thunder struck in the distance.

“The Desiderio Adversis Videntum showed me a mountain. I recognize it. It’s not that far from where I live but from  _ here, _ it’s about a five week journey. And once we get there… We find and save my parents.”

Varian scoffed. “Five  _ weeks _ ?” 

Thunder struck again, this time so close Varian thought he could feel its vibrations travelling up through the floor. Theodore set his jaw.

“You promised, Varian. You help me get and use the Desiderio Adversis Videntum, and I help you.” More quietly, he added, “Please, Varian. I need to help my parents.”

Varian was hesitant. He didn’t want to go along with this-- five weeks was far longer than Varian had expected helping Theodore would take, and travelling the terrain was far more than Varian had thought he was agreeing to, but Theodore’s words brought up memories of desperate pleading to a certain long-haired princess. Varian would  _ not _ break his promises. 

Varian unclenched his jaw to speak, not having realized he was clenching it in the first place. “Fine.” He didn’t miss the look of relief on Theodore’s face, or the way Theodore’s flame lit up the space a little more strongly, but he didn’t comment. On some level, Varian could relate to Theodore.

He would do anything to save his family.

So, in the morning, when the storm had passed, the two started their journey to help Theodore’s parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The illustration of Theodore is experimental and I'm not solid on his design, so if he doesn't look the way you imagined, don't worry! The illustration doesn't exactly look the way I imagine him either. You can see this art and more of Varian and Theodore at my Instagram, @artofanamateur.


	8. Leaving Corona

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spat this out at 2 am. Here, take it.

Leaving Corona was a difficult task, but since Varian and Theodore were already in Old Corona, at least they didn’t have to make it through the soldiers now stationed on either side of the bridge. They did, however, still have to make it past the two soldiers patrolling the path further out of Corona and into the unpopulated forest.

“I thought you said this was a back road,” Theodore hushedly said to Varian as the two darted between trees around the path, trying to stay out of the guard’s lines of sight as they crept past them. 

“It is,” Varian replied. “The King must have stationed soldiers here in case any of the escaped prisoners tried to use it to leave Corona-- like, uh, like we’re--”

“Like we’re doing now, yeah, I got it--” Theodore froze as he stepped on a twig and it broke with a loud  _ snap.  _ On instinct, Varian grabbed Theodore’s hand and pulled him behind the cover of the large tree Varian was pressed against, just in time as one of the soldiers sharply turned, scrutinizing the forest. Varian held his breath.

One of the soldiers sharply turned, scrutinizing the forest. “Did you hear that?” he asked his peer quietly.

“Hear what?” 

“A branch breaking. I’m going to check it out.”

Varian swore internally. He heard the soldier taking a step into the forest, his heavy boots flattening the wet undergrowth…

And then a branch further down the path broke, and the soldiers’ attention was redirected.

“There! Stop!”

Varian risked a look down the path, where a scrawny, ragged man froze. The two soldiers advanced toward him, and the man bolted back up the path. They gave pursuit.

“Huh,” said Varian. “That’s lucky, isn’t it?”

“Not for that guy,” Theodore answered. “Come on, hair stripe.” Theodore continued, quickly but careful enough not to make noise, on the edge of the forest and the path, in the opposite direction of the guards, and Varian followed close behind.

Varian glanced upward, past the canopy of evergreen, where the sun shone brightly directly above. It was midday.

Varian didn’t know exactly where Theodore was leading him as the two travelled down the path, eventually leaving the path and crossing through the forest. Varian hadn’t left Old Corona often, and the terrain was getting unfamiliar to him, much less to Theodore who was from who  _ knew _ where, he thought. It crossed Varian’s mind that he didn’t know Theodore well, or, er, at  _ all, _ really. He shouldn’t trust Theodore, he was aware, but somehow he couldn’t help but to do so, at least to a certain extent. Just enough to trust that Theodore was a good person, somewhere beyond the whole dangerous magician who tried to rob the castle of Corona thing. And as they walked, Varian felt that regardless of whether Theodore had the best intentions at heart, getting further from Corona was a good idea right now, at least until the prison escape had blown over.

The forest went darker than it was before. Varian glanced upward, and found that the sun’s light was imprisoned behind a wall of clouds. Wind blew, sending the trees’ leaves oscillating.

_ Five weeks, _ Varian thought. Five weeks of travelling with this random, fiery-haired, bright-eyed magician that Varian had known for, like, a week. More? How long had he been in jail? How long had he been  _ asleep _ ?

He was interrupted in his thoughts by Theodore putting out a hand to stop him. 

“What?” asked Varian.

“Shh,” Theodore whispered, peering through the trees searchingly. “I don’t think we’re alone.”

“Of course not, silly!”   
Varian turned on his heels, ready to fight (or run from) an attacker, perhaps a fellow escaped convict or savage waiting in the woods for unsuspecting victims or ancient stone golem… and found himself looking down at a small blond boy with a toothy grin.

“You’re kidding, right?” Theodore deadpanned.

The little boy giggled, and from the shadowed trees behind him, two other figures emerged. Two other,  _ much taller _ figures. Varian’s hand drifted to his satchel where several chemical solutions he’d scrounged before Theodore and he left were safely kept.

“Something funny?” one of them, a tall, burly man with an unfortunate sense of style quite literally growled. He tensed to attack, but his companion, a tall lanky woman, held out a hand in a signal for him to wait.

She flashed a golden grin at Theodore and Varian. “Don’t mind my friend here,” she said, gesturing to her muscular companion, who huffed like a bull. She wielded a tall staff, at the top of which was lodged a red, gently pulsing crystal. “Timmy’s more of the kill first, rob later type.”

As if to agree, Timmy gave a noise that was somehow unnervingly able to sound like a grunt and a snarl at the same time. 

“ _ I’m _ much more civil,” she added, but her too-wide smile, accentuated by her pointed golden teeth suggested otherwise. 

“That’s a magical staff,” Theodore murmured under his breath. 

Evidently, the woman heard. Her smile grew, and she nodded at Theodore. “And that’s the mark of a magical accessory. See? We’re both sorcerers! We have common ground, so I’ll make this short.” She pointed the staff at Theodore, and Timmy-- very large, very murdery-looking Timmy-- pounded one hand against the other, looking all too pleased at the idea that things were about to get hairy. “Hand everything over. Magical trinkets  _ included. _ ”

The little blond kid clapped his hands excitedly and stepped to the side to watch.

“ _ Electra, _ ” Theodore whispered, and from the corner of his eye, Varian saw Theodore’s hands light up with yellow energy. Varian reached for a chemical ball from his satchel, eyeing Timmy and the lady-magician-with-the-golden-teeth carefully. He looked toward Theodore, but Theo seemed more anxious than ready for a fight. 

The witch tilted her head, inspecting the three-pointed sign under Theodore’s right eye more closely. “Hold on. That’s a Videntum trinket, isn’t it? Only the Videntum make such pretty marks.”

Theodore took a step back, and she took it for an answer.

“Oh, yeah. We’ll  _ definitely _ be taking that. Timmy?” 

Timmy chuckled, giving a gargoyle’s grin.

_ “Get them. _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent like 30 min trying to figure out a cool title. I didn't. Anyway,  
> Hope y'alls quarantine (*social distancing) is going well!


	9. Spontaneous Combustion

Timmy was all too delighted to obey the witch’s order. He raised a huge, meaty fist, Varian backed away and wielded a purple ball, and yellow lightning sprung forth from Theodore’s outstretched hand--

And was intercepted by the witch’s staff. Timmy brought down his fist just inches away from Varian, who threw the ball. It broke on Timmy’s fist and stuck it to the ground.

“Theodore?” Varian asked, looking at the warlock. Theodore was backing away from the witch, not gearing up to shoot another magical blast, and that struck Varian as a problem. 

Theodore shook his head helplessly as the witch raised her hand, her fingers tapping the air delicately like she was making a puppet dance. “I can’t do anything, her staff--”

A red bolt shot out of her staff, travelled through the air sluggishly, and struck Theodore.

He didn’t slam back into a tree like one would expect. Instead, Theodore looked down at his chest where the bolt had hit him and frowned in confusion as he fell to his knees.

“Theo!” Varian cried out. He reached into his bag without looking and threw the first ball he grabbed at the witch.

Very suddenly, the witch found her clothes on fire, and she shrieked.

“What is this?” she demanded, turning her staff on herself and trying various enchantments to get rid of the fire. Meanwhile, Timmy was struggling with the purple ooze that Varian’s chemical ball had caused, and he was getting alarmingly far with his efforts.

Nevertheless, Varian rushed to Theodore’s side. He realized with a sense of dread that whatever that  _ witch _ had shot at Theodore, it was still inside him, coalescing beneath Theodore’s skin in red, shifting strands. It was like watching Theodore’s blood be electrified. 

“The fact that you can’t hold your own against another magical user would’ve been nice to know before we got robbed by one!” Varian joked, but his voice was edged with panic instead of amusement.

Theodore managed a wry grin regardless. “‘Sn’t me,” he managed to gasp out, but his words were choppy, like even talking was painful. “Th’... staff…”

Timmy’s victorious roar drew Varian’s attention. “Oh no.”

Timmy had gotten his hand free. And, Varian noted, just because the fates were feeling especially cruel, the witch had managed to put out the fire and was now looking only lightly singed, and very much furious. 

“Timmy, you get that little  _ rat, _ ” the witch spat, all traces of smugness gone from her voice. “I’m getting that Videntum trinket.” She pointed her staff at Theodore again.

“No!” Varian shouted, but he could hardly focus on what she was doing when he had the very large and present problem called Timmy after him. Varian barely dodged Timmy’s first swing, and his next one sent Varian through one tree and against another, knocking the wind out of him. Varian groaned, trying to recollect himself. He was getting very unwanted flashbacks from fighting that automatron with Rapunzel, but this was considerably less spellbinding.

Varian reached for another chemical ball, hoping for something explosive, but coming up with another purple one. Timmy was trumbling toward him, crushing bushes underfoot, his fists raised to pound Varian into the dirt. Varian wasn’t too keen on letting that happen.

He hurled the ball at Timmy’s feet, its explosion trapping Timmy in place. The momentum still drove Timmy forward, however, and he tumbled like a falling tree. His fists landed a foot or so away from Varian.

For good measure, Varian threw another purple ball at Timmy’s fists, and carefully edged out of the giant’s reach. Timmy roared and thrashed, or, well, thrashed as much as someone with their feet and hands restrained by purple goo with high binding qualities can.

“Timmy!” the little blond boy cried out, rushing to the giant’s side. “Timmy, you okay?”

But Varian was only vaguely aware of the little boy. He was striding back to the witch, who stood over Theodore and cast out, as Varian had to watch, another red bolt. 

Theodore screamed.

Something very dangerous cracked inside Varian, and he stepped forward-- only for something very  _ determined _ to bite Varian on the arm. He looked down and found that the blond little scamp was attached to him, growling like a dog. Varian shoved the kid off of him, and the boy fell to the ground with a thud. He shook his head and looked up at Varian with hateful, beady blue eyes.

Varian was dimly aware of what he did next, but his brain wasn’t as clear as the anger growing hot in his gut was. He seized the boy by his arm and shoved him to the ground with one hand, while his other reached for any random ball in his bag and came up with the same one that had lit the witch’s clothes aflame.

Theodore’s voice cracked and his screaming broke off, but not for lack of effort on his part. His throat had given out. Varian didn’t fully register the sight of blood rolling away from Theodore, forming a pool that was disturbed by the witch’s continuous stream of torturous magic, sending Theodore’s blood oscillating in minuscule rivulets.

The blond boy started crying under Varian’s tight grip. He held up the chemical ball, ready to throw. In the background, Timmy, still struggled against his bubbly purple constraints. For the first time, the witch noticed what Varian was doing, and her magic attack stopped for a second. Beneath her, Theodore’s voice returned to him, just for a second, enough to catch the end of a strangled sob.

“What are you doing!?” she shrieked, turning her full attention to Varian. She pointed her staff toward him, but Varian was too enraged to feel afraid. Theodore was still in pain. His blood was still flowing and the witch’s cursed magic was still leeching away at his life.

“Do I have your attention?” Varian asked, still firmly holding down the crying little boy. As the boy thrashed, Varian’s grip tightened, and the boy’s eyes watered more. The witch tensed.  _ Good, _ Varian thought.  _ Be afraid. _

“You  _ let him go, _ ” the witch snarled. “You let my boy  _ go, you rat--!” _

__ Varian calmly raised his chemical ball ever so slightly, just to remind the witch what it had done to her clothes minutes ago. She went quiet, and, sensing her distress, the blond child went quiet too.

“Reverse your spell on Theodore, and I’ll think about it,” he said coldly. 

Without hesitation, the woman murmured a word of magic, and Theodore fell limp with a whimper that Varian tried to ignore, but red electricity still squirmed beneath his skin.  _ A side effect. _

The witch was focused entirely now on the little boy, her eyes wide with motherly panic and her grip white-knuckled on her staff. 

_ Her staff, _ Varian thought. It was what was counterracting Theodore’s magic, and maybe even what was powering hers. Once if was broken, or so he hoped, maybe it would even end the red magic that still lingered in Theodore’s system completely. He needed to break that staff. And then he wanted to break her.

“Step away from him,” Varian demanded. Moving slowly, the witch obeyed. Varian couldn’t keep back a smile. Theodore was powerful, but this  _ witch _ was more so. And yet even she had to bow to the power of alchemy. “Now your staff? Yeah, that’s gonna need to go.”

The witch looked at her staff, and up at Varian.

“ _ Now. _ ” To discourage her reluctance, Varian tensed his arm as if to throw it at the child. She jumped, ready to act, and Varian had to laugh, even as the blond boy whimpered. “Got you there, didn’t I?” he said. “But yeah, next time I don’t think I’ll be joking, so the  _ staff. _ ” On the last word, his voice dropped its thin veil of amusement and dripped with a threat. With every second the witch hesitated, Varian’s resolve hardened, and so too did his hold on the boy, who began to cry again.

“Varian,” Theodore called, his voice hoarse from his screaming.

He had propped himself up, and he watched the scene before him with fear. It took Varian a second to register that Theodore was scared of what  _ Varian _ was doing.

“Stop…’ Theodore pleaded. “He’s just-- a kid...”

Varian paused.

At once, the witch took advantage of Varian’s hesitance and jerked the staff at him, starting to shout an incantation.

But Varian was quicker. He threw the ball at her feet, and it exploded into flames. She fell back with a shriek, dropping her staff.

While she was occupied with being lit aflame once more, the boy seized the moment to scramble away. Varian let him. He reached for the witch’s fallen staff and one one fluid movement, snapped away the end with the red gem embedded into it.

Like an exploding star, the crystal first shrunk in on itself, and then shattered in all different directions, driven by a red circle of  _ magic. _

A few feet away, Theodore went fully limp. Varian went to his side.

Meanwhile, Timmy’s thrashing had paid off. His hands and feet were still covered in the purple solvent, but he’d ripped them from the ground nevertheless, although he took a few bushes and ferns with him.

Fortunately, the witch’s pained screaming drew Timmy’s attention more than Varian himself did. Timmy rushed to the witch’s side, grunting frantically something about water. He scooped her up in his burly arms, only to drop her with a hiss as chemical burns formed on his arms. He tried again, this time suffering the pain to take off into the woods in search for water, or help, or anything to stop the fire. The little blond boy was nowhere to be seen.

“ _ Theo. _ ” Varian brought out a gloved hand to the magician’s bloodied face. “You’re bleeding, I--”

“S’ fine, tulip.”

“Tulip?” Varian repeated, trying to keep his voice steady. “That’s a new one.”

“‘M feel’n’ spont’n-- spont--” Theodore screwed his eyes shut with the effort it took to try to pronounce the word.

“Spontaneous,” Varian finished weakly, wiping away some of the blood. “I got it. Theodore, I don’t-- I don’t know how to  _ help _ you,” he admitted, his voice breaking on  _ help. _ “Isn’t there… a spell?”

Theodore nodded weakly. “‘S gonna b’awhile b’fore I wake up aft’r, though…”

“That’s alright,” Varian promised, “I’ll wait for you.”

Theodore smiled at the words, but it fell as he summoned the energy it took to speak his next words, too softly for Varian to hear. Theodore fell unconscious, but some of the color returned to his cheeks and the steady stream of blood from his mouth ceased. 

Comforted vaguely, Varian let him rest. He took the witch’s staff, the crystal long gone and the staff itself broken off and jagged at the end. In unsteady motions that he had to restart more than once with his shaken nerves, Varian tied several vials, sealed with corks, to the top of the staff using a length of rope.  _ Just like the old one, _ he thought, regarding his new staff. He set it aside. Overheard, the sun was still being hidden away by stubborn clouds. The forest was quiet. Time ticked away.

Varian waited for Theodore.

**Author's Note:**

> I know this chapter is short, but I've got more coming! ;)


End file.
